Harry Potter and An Unexpected Twist of Events
by TheGreyLadyy
Summary: An unexpected event causes Lily to escape with her son, Harry, alive. As Harry enters into his first year, he face many of the same problems, but now he has his mother to help him. How will his mother's presence affect the story of our young hero?
1. Unexpected Consequences

**A/N: **Okay, so I always wondered what would happen if one of Harry's parents had survived, so I decided to write this story. After much thought, I decided to have Lily be the one to live and see how it would affect Harry's destiny, so to speak. I'll try to stay as close to canon as I can, although I will not, by any means, copy down J.K Rowling's ideas word for word. They'll mostly be my words, I'll only be borrowing her ideas. I hope you guys like it. :)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter; that belongs to J.K Rowling. I'm just playing around with her ideas, to see how it works out.

Chapter 1: Unexpected Consequences

"Are you sure you two will be okay?" Lily Potter asked her husband as she threw on a traveling cloak.

"Love, it's okay. Don't worry, we'll be fine. Go to your mother, she needs you," James said as he picked little Harry up from his crib.

Lily looked at her husband, feeling uneasy. It wasn't that she didn't trust James with Harry, because she did. James was a wonderful husband and father. But given their current circumstances, well it just didn't feel right to leave them. But her mother was gravely ill and the doctors said she might not make it through the night.

James gave her a reassuring smile. "We'll be okay Lils, really. We've been lucky so far. The charms have been successful up until now, so you have nothing to worry about, love. "

"Fine," she said, feeling anxious. "I'll be back in an hour. I love you, James," she said kissing him on the lips. "And I love you, Harry," she cooed, kissing her son, "more than Daddy, just don't tell him I said that."

"Hey, I've gotta keep an eye on you, mister," James said laughing. "We love you, too Lils, don't we Harry? Say bye to Mum."

Harry babbled incoherently, which in baby language might have been something akin to 'goodbye'. Lily smiled, kissing them both again. She made for the door, turning around worriedly.

"Are you sure—?"

"We'll be fine. Really. Now, do I hold him upside down before or after I feed him?" he asked, laughing at his joke.

"Oh, James!" Lily scolded, trying to hide her smile. "Behave yourselves. I'll be back in a bit. I love you," she said, waving goodbye as she walked out of the nursery. James waited until he heard a faint pop sound, which signalled that Lily had already Disapparated. He sighed and turned to the small child he was holding.

How somebody could think someone as pure and innocent as Harry could pose a threat to another human being, James did not know. At just one year of age, Harry looked extraordinarily like James, from his mischievous grin to his untidy jet-black hair. Except for his eyes. He had his mother's eyes; the same vibrant emerald green eyes that had captivated James from the start.

Harry looked up at him, babbling happily. James smiled, kissing his son's forehead.

"So, what should we do while we wait for Mummy to get back, sport?"

"Poof!" Harry said happily, clapping his hands on James' cheeks. "Poof, poof, poof!"

"Hold your hippogriffs," James said laughing. He whipped out his wand and proceeded to make little puffs of colourful smoke. Harry laughed gleefully, clapping his hands. James would look out the window every so often, feeling worried.

Suddenly, there was a noise outside, like that of someone Apparating. He looked at his watch; Lily wasn't due in another half hour or so.

"I'll be right back, Harry," he said, placing the small child in the crib, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. He grabbed his wand and made his way down the stairs, towards the sitting room. He peered outside and what he saw next sent a rush of fear through him: a hooded figure gliding down through the deserted streets was making its way towards their small cottage.

"Shit," James exclaimed. He felt his wand slip out of his numb hands, but he didn't stop; keeping Harry safe was the only thing on his mind. He rushed into the nursery, falling to his knees in front of Harry; he knew he didn't have much time.

"Harry, love, listen to me. You have to be brave; you have to be strong. I love you son, more than you can imagine," he said. He heard the front door blast open and he knew that soon, Voldemort would be there. "Daddy's got to leave now, but it's because he loves you and Mum. Don't ever forget that, son. Daddy loves you. Be a good boy and take care of Mum for me, love," said James kissing Harry's forehead, trying to keep his voice relaxed as he felt a single tear roll down his cheek.

The door of the nursery blast open and James stood up, throwing his arms protectively in front of his son. He knew he didn't have a wand, knew it wouldn't give him a chance against the Dark Lord. He only had one option left and he silently prayed that it would work.

"Stand aside! Stand aside you fool. I have nothing against you. I want the child. Give me the child and you shall live. Give me the child and you shall be forgiven. Oppose me and you shall die." Voldemort said in a cold, cruel voice.

"No! I will not let you harm my son, Voldemort! I would much rather die protecting my son than live and be a coward!"

"Then you and your son shall die, you fool," Voldemort said, sneering at him from beneath his cloak.

James braced himself for the pain that was about to come. But he didn't care much about dying, as long as Harry and Lily were safe. They were all that mattered.

"Avada Kedavra!" A flash of green light emitted from his wand and James' lifeless body slumped to the floor.

The child started crying and Voldemort turned his attention to him impatiently. He had never cared much for children especially those who cried. He smiled coldly. Such a weak thing. He pointed his want to the child's forehead. He wanted to see this one die, see as the life left his eyes.

"Avada Kedavra," he said in a cold voice. There was a flash of green, a desperate scream behind him, and then all was dark.

* * *

As soon as Lily Apparated in the front steps of their little home, she sensed that something was horribly wrong. She cursed herself for leaving as she frantically made her way up the stairs to Harry's nursery. She burst in through the open door, just in time to see Voldemort point his wand at Harry's face and cast the curse.

She heard someone screaming and it took her a second to realise it was her. She was too late. It was all her fault her son and husband were dead. But then something unexpected happened. The spell somehow rebounded and Voldemort seemed to disintegrate before her very eyes. There was a small explosion and it sent her flying across the hall.

She opened her eyes and amongst the dust and debris, she could see Harry standing in his crib, looking terrified, crying out to her. She stood up and ran to her son; she could feel something cold running through the side of her face, but she didn't care if she was hurt. All that mattered was that somehow, Harry was alive.

She grabbed him, clutching him to her chest and crying uncontrollably. She peered down at him and noticed the lightning shaped scar on his forehead. She muffled a cry; that must have been there where the curse rebounded.

She turned around and knelt down beside James, her lover, her best friend, her everything. He had been alive just a few moments ago. And now he wasn't. He was gone. Gone, leaving them both behind. Her cries had made Harry feel uneasy, for he too started crying.

"Sh, love it's alright," she said reassuringly, trying to keep the pain and panic out of her voice. Lily knew she had to calm herself down, for Harry's sake. She bent down and kissed James cold lips. "I love you, James," she said, crying silently. She knew she had to get out of here, before people became aware of what had happened, before others came looking for them.

She gathered a few belongings and put them into a small handbag, magically enlarging it so that they fit. With one last look at James' lifeless body, Lily ran down the stairs and out the door, with Harry securely hidden beneath her cloak. She kept walking at a brisk pace, looking for a good place to Disapparate. She heard footsteps behind her and she turned around, wand raised, prepared to kill, clutching her son to her chest.

"It's just me," Sirius said, stepping out of the shadows, hands raised. When Lily didn't lower her wand, he continued hastily, "I am Sirius Black, son of Walburga and Orion Black, sometimes known as Padfoot, because of my Animagus form. I am best friend to James Potter, sometimes known as Prongs and Remus Lupin, known as Moony. And your Patronous takes the shape of a doe."

Relieved, Lily lowered her wand.

"What happened, Lils?" he asked painfully, although he already knew the answer.

Lily felt herself break down once again. She told Sirius everything. She watched as Sirius, one of the strongest men she knew, broke down crying. James had been after all, more than his best friend. They had been more like brothers. They clutched on to each other, sharing their pain.

"It's all my bloody fault," Sirius cried. "If I had remained your Secret-Keeper, none of this would have happened."

"No, Sirius. It wasn't your fault. James trusted Peter. Merlin, I trusted him," she choked out.

"All the same, Lily. I would have never betrayed you. I would have much rather died! It's all my ruddy fault."

"I know, sweetie. And no, it's not your fault, Padfoot. Listen to me. I need you right now. I need you to help me get Harry somewhere safe," she said, letting the tears flow freely down her pale face.

At last, Sirius composed himself. Lily was right. His godson needed him. "I think that we should go see the Headmaster at once. He'll know what to do."

Lily nodded solemnly, holding out her hand. Sirius grabbed it and the three of the Disapparated with a faint pop into the middle of the night.

* * *

Professor Dumbledore paced in his study, somehow sensing that something had gone horribly wrong. He had just made the resolve to check on the Potters, when Minerva McGonagall burst frantically through the door, followed by a distraught Sirius and a weeping Lily, holding a restless Harry. One look at their faces and he knew what had happened.

He fell back into his chair, sighing sadly. The usual twinkle that could be found in his piercing blue eyes was gone, only to be replaced by a deep sadness. Although he was relieved that the child was alive, he was terribly sorry that James Potter, one of his favourite pupils, was dead.

"But, Albus, I don't understand. How did it happen?" Professor McGonagall asked the same question they were all asking themselves.

"It was love, Minerva. Nothing less. Love is much more powerful than Dark Magic. A father's love is strong, unbreakable. Because James sacrificed himself, gave up his life for his son, he ensured Harry's survival."

They all stayed silent, pondering on the meaning of his words. After a while, Lily broke the silence.

"He's not gone is he Albus?" she asked weakly, pressing Harry closer to her.

"No, Lily. I'm afraid not," Dumbledore said in a heavy voice. Lily hung her head in resignation as fresh tears poured down her face. "But now is not the time to worry about that, Lily. We need to take you somewhere safe for now. I think the house of someone in the Order would be best."

"Who do you have in mind, Headmaster?"

"The Weasleys."

* * *

In a cosy home in the outskirts of a small village known as Ottery St. Catchpole, Molly Weasley stood by the crib of her sleeping daughter when a flash of light startled her. She whipped around, wand raised. She let out a sigh of relief upon seeing the Headmaster's phoenix Patronous standing in the middle of the room.

"Potters were attacked. James is dead. Lily and Harry are alive. They need a place to stay," it spoke in Professor Dumbledore's voice. Molly stifled a cry. She had been close to the Potters and she knew how much Lily must be suffering right now. Molly produced her own Patronous, a silvery weasel, and whispered her response. With a heavy heart, she left to get everything ready for their arrival.

* * *

Lily stood in the front steps of The Burrow, clutching a sleeping Harry. She raised her hand to knock on the door, but it was flung open by none other than Molly Weasley.

"Oh, Lily, dear are you alright?" she asked in a sad voice, drawing Lily into a warm hug.

Once again, Lily felt new tears start pouring down her face, following the same course as her old ones. Molly led her to a bedroom in the first-floor landing. Moonlight streamed in from the small window, which gave an excellent view of the orchard below. Without a word, Molly helped her lay down, placing Harry next to her, before exiting the room. Lily pulled Harry closer, afraid to lose him out of her sight. She mourned silently, her heart aching for James. For the love of her life, for the only man she would ever love.

**A/N: **So what'd you guys think?


	2. A New Life

**A/N**: I wasn't really planning on writing this chapter, but I got this insisting nagging feeling that wouldn't go away, so I sat down and wrote this. It's fairly short, but I just had to write it. I'm already working on what was supposed to be Chapter 2, so I'll probably have it up in the next day or so. Also, I have a question for you guys. Should Lily eventually die? I can't seem to make up my mind on that. Let me know what you guys think.

Chapter 2: A New Life

Over the course of the next few days, The Burrow seemed rather like an inn as people who had been close to Lily and James paraded in and out, offering their condolences and support; Remus and Sirius had been among them, making a point to check on her every day. Lily had gone through the motions half-heartedly, in a zombie-like manner.

There were people to be talked to, questions to be answered, preparations to be made. She didn't know exactly how she was going to manage to plan the funeral, but thankfully for her, Molly and Emmeline Vance, a fellow member of the Order and old friend, had volunteered to take care of it.

It had been a nice, quiet, ceremony, to those present, led by none other than Albus Dumbledore. But to Lily it had passed by in a blur. She had stood there as was expected of her, crying silently, holding her small son tightly to her chest, almost as if she feared that when she let go, he would leave her also.

Harry was the only one that seemed to be keeping her together these days. She knew she must carry on and learn to live with the aching whole in her heart, for Harry's sake.

Being young and innocent, Harry had not yet been able to comprehend that his father was never coming back. He would constantly ask Lily where James was and she felt as if each question was a new blow to her already aching heart.

Molly had come to the rescue and tried to keep Harry's little mind occupied by taking him for little walks and the such, for which Lily was extremely grateful.

But in the night, when they were all alone in their little room, Harry would refuse to sleep crying for James. Lily knew it was because he missed the stories James would always tell him at night, before tucking him in. Lily had tried everything, from trying to read to him, to pleading with him, to finally breaking down and crying. Luckily, Remus had stepped in and taken the role of storyteller, 'until Daddy came back'.

Just as she was trying to adjust herself to life without James, Lily had received another blow. One of her best friends, Alice Longbottom had been attacked by four Death Eaters and tortured to insanity. She had spent most of that morning crying into Sirius' arms, as he awkwardly tried to comfort her.

The only good thing that had come from his visit was that he had informed her that Peter Pettigrew had finally been captured and was currently awaiting trial, facing a life sentence in Azkaban. It felt like a small, senseless victory to Lily. Having Peter in prison would not revive James, nor would it ease her pain. She would much rather murder the traitor with her own bare hands. But seeing as that wouldn't bring back James either, she settled for letting the culprit suffer for the rest of his miserable life.

* * *

It had been a month since James' passing and Lily found herself more or less adjusting to her new life without him. She had decided that it would be a good idea for her and Harry to get their own place. Arthur had helped her, finding her a cosy little cottage just in the outskirts of the woods surrounding Ottery St. Catchpole, just a few miles north from The Burrow.

It was a rather small house, much smaller than their home in Godric's Hollow had been, but Lily had loved it just the same. It seemed to Lily as if had come straight out of one of the Muggle fairy-tales her mum used to read to her when she was younger. Since she had decided to keep him as far from the wizarding world as possible, she thought it the perfect place for Harry and her to start their new life. After putting the necessary spells around it and it had passed Dumbledore's inspections, Lily had finally moved in, with the help of her friends.

Soon, she and Harry adjusted to their new life. Seeing as James had left them with enough money that Lily didn't need to work, she remained home, her main job being the welfare of her son, although occasionally, she would do little jobs here and there, to keep her mind occupied.

The Weasley's remained a constant presence in their lives, as did Sirius and Remus. Their little home always seemed to be full of her friends from the Order, who would usually stop by for a chat and a bite to eat and make sure they were doing okay, before returning to their duties. Lily didn't mind in the least. On the contrary, she was grateful for all the people who cared about them.

* * *

But amidst the changes happening in their lives, Lily never forgot James and she made sure Harry didn't either. While everyone else was out celebrating Hallowe'en, five-year old Harry Potter stood huddled close to his mother as she lit four candles, one for each year since James Potter had died. His mum was humming softly to herself that little tune she always sang whenever she lit them.

Every year, Lily would light the floating lamps, while humming to herself. Then, they would release them into the night sky while they each said a little prayer for James. They would walk back inside and light even more candles, this time next to the portrait of their little family that stood over the fireplace. Afterwards, Harry would sit on his mother's lap as she told him about James. It was like their own little private ritual and Harry loved every second of it.

"Mummy?"

"Yes, love?"

"What was Dad like?" Although Harry had asked his mum this same question millions of times, he never got tired of asking it and Lily never got tired of answering it.

"Well, he was very much like you. Same untidy hair, same horrible vision, same loving and caring nature. And he had a knack for misbehaving, very much like you," she said, laughing softly as she ruffled his hair. "I remember he would always get in trouble, along with Sirius and Remus."

"Uncle Remus too?"

"Oh, yes. Back then, they had their own little group which consisted of them three, plus—well he's not important. They used to call themselves the Marauders and they even had nicknames for themselves. Sirius was Padfoot, Remus was Moony, and—"

"Daddy was Prongs."

"Mhm."

They sat there, in front of the cosy little fire, in comfortable silence, as his mum stroked his hair. Harry could feel his eyes closing and he yawned sleepily. He was about to give in to sleep, when he remembered he still had one more question to ask.

"Mummy?"

"Yes, love?" his mother whispered softly.

"We'll always be together, right?"

"Yes, love. Always."

Soon, Harry was fast asleep, snoring lightly in Lily's arms. She stayed like that for a while, feeling the warmth of her son pressing against her chest, thinking of James. Four years had passed since that fateful day, yet to Lily it felt like only yesterday. She still loved him with the same fiery passion and she refused to remarry, refused to love anyone else. Her heart only had enough space for one other person besides James. And that person was Harry.


	3. Diagon Alley

**A/N:** I took a bit to post this chapter because I couldn't figure out a good way to end it. I'm still not satisfied with it, but I hope it'll do. Hope you guys enjoy it and let me know what you think.

**Disclaimer: **Since this is a sort of retake on J.K Rowling's Harry Potter series, you will find many things that sound familiar. So no, I don't own this-except anything you don't recognise. That I do own...well kinda.

Chapter 3: Diagon Alley

Almost six years had passed since that Hallowe'en night and Harry had grown up into a handsome young boy. He had inherited James' untidy jet-black hair, knobbly knees, and mischievous nature. He was also rather short for his age, like James had been at his age. Everyone always told him he was a spitting image of his father. Except for his eyes. Instead of James' soft hazel eyes, he had inherited Lily's bright green ones.

He was a rather lively and cheerful boy and had an air around him of being well-kept and loved dearly. But instead of being a spoiled child, Harry was rather modest, as one usually is when they've tasted responsibility from a young age.

Although Lily had tried her hardest to allow Harry to have a problem-free childhood, ever since James' death Harry had felt as if the responsibility of caring for their little family had fallen on his shoulders. Lily worried about it, but Harry didn't mind in the least; he actually enjoyed the responsibility.

And then there was his scar, a very thin, lightning bolt-shaped one on his forehead. Harry never understood why people always seemed so fascinated by it. To him, it was like a little reminder of how much his father had loved him. To everyone else, it was an icon, their own reminder of Voldemort's defeat. To them, he was 'The-Boy-Who-Lived'. But all Harry wanted to be was Harry. Just Harry.

He was standing in his mother's little room, early one Saturday morning, fully dressed, thinking all this. His mum seemed to be the one of the only people to see him as he really was: just another normal boy. That's all he ever wanted to be.

He walked towards her, careful not to make a sound and peered at her. She looked peaceful in her sleep, her red hair matted around her handsome face. Harry liked to see his mum sleeping; she didn't have that look of worry in her eyes that never left them, no matter how hard she tried to hide it.

Pushing his large, round glasses up the bridge of his nose, he leaned closer. She had a small smile on her face and Harry grinned before jumping on her bed.

"Mum, wake up! Wake up! You promised you'd take me today!"

Lily let out a small groan, laughing softly. She rolled over, brushing her hair out of her face, smiling at him. "Five more minutes, love," she said falling back to the bed, pulling the sheets over her face.

Harry jumped off, pulling the sheets off her. "But _Mum_. You promised," he said looking at her pleadingly.

His mum looked at him, smiling. Harry had received his Hogwarts letter earlier that week and it was all he had talked about since. When his mum had promised to take him to Diagonal Alley that weekend, he had been ecstatic. After years of having grown up hearing all those stories about Hogwarts Sirius and Remus had told him, it would finally be his turn. And Diagon Alley was the first stop.

"Fine," she said, sitting up. Harry broke out in a grin and rushed for the door. "Love? How about a good morning hug to your mum first? And a good morning kiss doesn't sound too bad, either."

Harry rushed back, throwing his small arms around his mother and kissing her in the cheek. Lily ruffled his already messy hair, making him smile.

"Hurry up, mum. I've already got breakfast ready."

"Oh, isn't that lovely. My little boy has got breakfast ready for his mummy."

"_Mum_, I'm not a boy anymore. In a few days it'll be my birthday and I'll finally be a man," he grinned proudly.

She smiled. "Ah, yes. How could I have forgotten?"

Harry rushed out of her room and down the stairs. In the kitchen, he took a seat in his usual spot at the breakfast table, waiting impatiently for his mother. She finally made her appearance ten minutes later, wearing not her usual muggle clothing, but a pretty green robe that brought out her eyes.

"Mmm, Pixie Puffs, my favourite."

She walked over to the counter and served herself a cup of coffee, before taking a seat next to her son.

"Have you got your letter, love?"

"Yes. Mum, are Remus and Sirius coming with us?"

"I'm afraid not, love. Sirius' got something at the Ministry going on and Remus isn't—er, feeling well."

"And Ron?"

"Molly said they'd meet us there. Can you get that for me, love?" his mother asked, signalling to the owl that had suddenly appeared, rapping its claw on the window, a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ held in its beak.

Harry rushed to the window and jerked it open. The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper onto the breakfast table, before flying out the window again.

"Mum, can we please go already?" Harry groaned as he watched his mother pick up the newspaper.

"You are so much like your father. He was always so impatient," she said laughing. "Fine, love. We can go."

"How are we getting there?"

"Apparition."

Harry groaned. Although he had Apparated loads of times, he could never really get used to the nasty sensation that came along with it. He walked after her, reluctantly. She held out her arm and he took it, holding it tightly. Everything went dark and Harry felt as if he was being pressed very hard from every direction, making it difficult for him to breath.

Quite suddenly, the sensation went away and Harry let out a shaky sigh of relief as they landed on the front steps of the Leaky Cauldron. He stood there for a moment, trying to regain his posture before walking into the dark, shabby little pub after his mother.

He noticed a few old women sitting in a corner, drinking tiny glasses of sherry. A little man in a top hat was talking to the old bartender, who was quite bald and looked like a toothless walnut. Quite suddenly, the pub became rather silent, as people were made aware of their presence.

Then there was a few muttering among those present:

"Is that?"

"Can it be?"

"Bless my soul, it's Harry Potter!"

"Very pleased to meet you, Mr Potter," the little man said rushing towards him, shaking his hand gleefully. By now, Harry had gotten used to people seeming delighted whenever they caught a glimpse of him when he was out shopping with his mum, although it did make him feel rather awkward.

His mother sighed besides him. Although Lily had never hidden from him the fact that he was a wizard, she had tried her best to shield him from the wizarding community, as means of trying to avoid situations like that. Harry found himself continuously shaking hands with everyone present.

A pale young man made his way forward, very nervously. Harry could tell one of his eyes was twitching. "P-P-Potter," the young man stammered, grasping his hand, "c-can't t-tell you how p- pleased I am to meet you. I'm P-Professor Quirrell, a t-t-teacher at Hogwarts."

"What class do you teach, Professor?"

"D-Defence Against the D-D-Dark Arts," muttered Professor Quirrell, as though he'd rather not think about it. "N-not that you n-need it, eh, P-P-Potter?" He laughed nervously. "You'll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself." He looked terrified at the very thought.

After ten minutes, his mother was finally able to get them out of there, much to Harry's relief. They made their way out of the pub into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a trash can and a few weeds.

"Alright, let's see," his mother said, taking out her wand. "Three up...two across. Alright, stand back, love," she said, tapping the wall three times.

The brick she had touched quivered and in the middle a small hole appeared, growing larger and larger until it was big enough to let them both through. The archway led out onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.

"Well, love. This is it. Diagon Alley."

Harry grinned widely, turning all around him in amazement, wishing for extra pair of eyes. There was just so much to be seen: the shops, the things outside them, the people doing their shopping.

Harry grinned as a plump, redhead woman outside an Apothecary was shaking her head saying, "Dragon liver, seventeen Sickles an ounce, they're mad." She was surrounded by five children—an older boy, two twins, a boy about his age, and a small girl—all with flaming red hair.

"Aunt Molly!"

"Oh, Harry dear! We've been waiting for you." she said engulfing him in a warm hug.

"Morning Aunt Lils! Wotcher, Harry!" said one of the twins, grinning widely at them.

"George! Where's Ginny? She was standing next to you."

"I'm right here, mum," the small redhead girl said.

"He's not George, I am," the boy's twin said. "Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can't you tell he's Fred?"

"I'm sorry, dear."

"Just kidding, mum. He's George," Fred said grinning.

Molly shook her head exasperatedly at the two boys.

"Hello, Aunt Lily," the oldest boy said pleasantly. "Mother, can we start on our shopping now? I really should get to my studying, after all I am a prefect," he said proudly.

"Oh, Percy dear! You've been made a prefect! That's wonderful," Lily said, congratulating him.

"You're a prefect, Perce?" Fred said, feigning surprise. "Blimey! I had no idea!"

"A prefect you say?" George piped in. "Why, you should've mentioned it sooner!"

"Wait, wait. I distinctly remember him saying something about it. Maybe once—"

"Or twice—"

"A minute—"

"All week—"

Percy scowled at them, while the others, except for Molly, laughed and even his mum couldn't hide her smile.

"He's been boasting about it all week," Ron whispered to Harry. "Bit annoying actually. So, ready for Hogwarts, mate?"

"Yeah," Harry grinned excitedly.

"Should we get started then Lily, dear?"

"Sounds good to me. I just need to go to Gringotts first."

"All right, we'll be at Flourish and Blotts."

Harry and his mum made their way down the street, towards Gringotts, a snowy white building that towered over the other little shops. Standing beside its burnished bronze doors, wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold, was a goblin and next to that goblin was a rather tall, bearded man, waving merrily at them.

"Hagrid!" Harry exclaimed, running towards the gentle half-giant.

"Harry! It's good ter see ya. Alrigh' there, Lily?"

"Never better. What brings you here, Hagrid?"

"I'm here on Hogwarts business. Professor Dumbledore sent me," he said, throwing out his chest importantly as they made their way up the steps.

They walked in through the bronze doors, the goblin bowing them in. They were then faced with a second pair of silver doors with words engraved upon them:

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

"What does that mean?"

"That yeh'd be mad ter try ter rob it. Ain't no safer place than Gringotts. Except Hogwarts. See ya later, Harry, Lily," Hagrid said as they each made their way towards a free goblin.

"Good morning," said Lily. "I'd like to take some money out of Vault 687."

"I assume you have the key?" the goblin asked, peering at them over the counter.

His mother extracted a small handbag from her robes, removing a small key from it, before handing it to the goblin, who examined it closely.

"Very well. Everything seems to be in order. I'll have somebody take you to your vault, Mrs Potter. Griphook!"

Griphook, another goblin, appeared besides them. He bowed to them, before escorting them through one of the doors leading out of the hall and into a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. It sloped steeply downward and there were little railway tracks on the floor. Griphook let out a whistle and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks toward them.

"Hold on tight," Griphook said, rather nastily after they had climbed in.

Harry was about to ask why, but he got his answer as the little cart took off at full speed, through a maze of twisting passages. They seemed to be getting deeper into the ground and the air became colder around them. Finally after much twists and turns, the cart came to a stop.

"That was brilliant," Harry grinned, as they climbed out.

"That's one way to put it," his mother said, looking rather pale.

Griphook reached for the key, before unlocking the door. Harry's mouth fell open as he caught a glimpse of the inside. Everywhere he looked there was mounds of gold, row after row of silver, and heaps of bronze. He had always known that they had enough money so that his mother didn't have to work, but he had never imagined that they had _this_ much.

"Close your mouth, love. You'll let a fly in," Lily said, laughing gently as she scooped a handful of gold Galleons, silver Sickles and bronze Knuts into her small handbag. "Alright I think we're all set."

After one wild cart-ride later, Harry and his mum made their way towards Flourish and Blotts, were they were supposed to meet the Weasley's. He was walking behind her, when something caught his eye. Awestruck, he joined a crowd of gaping children around a shop window, forgetting all about his mother.

"Love, have you got your letter? Love? Harry?" Lily whipped around rapidly, fear gripping her as she scanned the crowd for Harry. She finally spotted him amidst the crowd of excited children standing outside of the Quality Quidditch Supplies shop. She sighed in relief as she made her way towards her son.

"What are you looking at, love?" she asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"It's the Nimbus 2000, mum," Harry said excitedly. "It just came out. They say it's the fastest ever. I would give _anything_ to own one," he said, his eyes wide and hopeful.

"Oh no, love. I'm sorry, but I'm afraid that you're going to have to wait. Your letter specifically says that first-years are not allowed their own broomsticks."

Harry's face fell. "I suppose your right."

"Come on, I know what'll cheer you up. How about I treat you to some ice-cream from Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour after we're done shopping?"

Harry had only ever had ice cream from Fortescue's shop once and it had been by far the best he had ever tasted.

"Deal," he said happily as he followed his mum into Flourish and Blotts.

Two hours later, the Potters and the Weasleys parted ways, the latter having finished their shopping and headed back home. Harry and his mum, on the other hand, made their way to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

"Love, would you mind going inside by yourself?" his mother asked. "I just remembered I need some ingredients from the Apothecary, for the potion I'm brewing for Uncle Remus."

Harry felt nervous entering the shop alone, but he understood that this was just another step for becoming a man.

"Sure, mum," he said, stepping into the little shop.

A squat witch walked over to him and smiled.

"Hello, dear. Hogwarts, too?" she asked, leading him to the back of the shop. "Got the lot here. Matter of fact, another young man's being fitted right now."

A young pale boy of about his age was standing on a stool, being fitted by another witch. Madam Malkin's led Harry to an adjacent stool, slipped a long robe over his head, and began to pin it to the right length.

The boy looked over at Harry and smiled, although it did not reach his eyes.

"Hello. Hogwarts too I assume?" the boy asked.

"Yes."

"My father's next door buying my books and my mother's up the street at the Apothecary," said the boy. Harry noted that he had a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully Father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

Like Harry, the boy had an air of being well-loved and cared for. But unlike Harry, he was rather arrogant and spoiled. Harry couldn't help but taking an instant dislike towards him.

"Have you got your own broom?"

"No."

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"Yes."

"I do too. Father says it would be a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No," Harry said, slightly bored.

"Well, of course no one really knows what house they'll be in, until they get there, but I just know I'll be in Slytherin—all of the Malfoy family has been. What house were you're parents from? I mean, they aren't _muggles_ are they?"

"No," Harry said coldly, irritated at the boy's tone of voice—it seemed to imply that being a muggle was a bad thing.

"Good. I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? I mean half-bloods aren't that bad, but _Muggle-borns_? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old, pureblood wizarding families. Don't you? What's your surname, anyway?"

"You're done, dear," Madam Malkin's said before Harry could respond. Relieved, he jumped off from the stool, not sorry at all for having to leave.

"I'll see you at Hogwarts, then," the boy said in his drawling voice.

Harry walked out and spotted his mum walking hurriedly towards him. As she got closer, he could tell she was a little flustered, although she tried to hide it as soon as she saw him.

"What's wrong, mum?"

"Nothing, love. I just—er—ran into someone I would much rather have avoided. Did you get the robes?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah."

"Great. One more thing left then, love. Well, two actually."

His mum led him to the Eeylops Owl Emporium, were they spent twenty-minutes choosing an owl. Finally, Harry decided for a beautiful snowy, white owl. Once again outside, Lily led them to their final stop: Ollivanders.

They walked into the little shop, a tinkling bell sounding in the depths of the shop as soon as they had stepped inside. It was a rather tiny, gloomy shop, with only one spindly chair on which to sit on. His mum waited beside him, one hand placed on his shoulder, as the other drummed softly against the counter.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice all of sudden, causing Harry to jump.

An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Hello," said Harry rather awkwardly.

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter." He turned to Lily. "Lily Potter! Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir."

Mr Ollivander nodded and turned his attention back to Harry, moving closer to him. Harry wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy.

"James, on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favoured it—although, it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

Mr Ollivander had come so close that he and Harry were almost nose to nose. Harry could see himself reflected in those misty eyes.

"And that's where…"

Harry could feel his mum shifting uncomfortably besides him; Harry was feeling more than a tad uncomfortable himself at the moment. Mr Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harry's forehead with a long, white finger.

"I'm sorry to say I was the one who sold the wand that did that," he said softly. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands...well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do..."

Lily cleared her throat uncomfortably, bringing Ollivander back to the present.

"Hmm, which would be your wand arm, Mr Potter?" he asked, pulling out a long tape measure out of his pocket.

Confused, he looked over to his mother.

"His right hand," his mother answered for him, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"Mmm, stick out your arm then, Mr Potter." Harry obeyed and soon he was being measured from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head.

"Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand," said Ollivander, allowing the tape to continue his measurements as he proceeded to walking around the shop, taking down boxes from the many shelves.

"I think, that's enough," he said and the tape measure suddenly stopped, falling into a neat pile on the floor. "Beech wood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave, if you will, Mr Potter."

Harry once again looked at his mum, who gave him an encouraging nod. He took the wand and gave it a flick, feeling rather foolish. Nothing. Ollivander snatched the wand from his hand and handed him another one.

"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try this one."

Again nothing. Ollivander eagerly snatched the wand and replaced it for a third.

"No, no—here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."

But again, nothing. Wand after wand came off the shelves. Harry tried all of them, without much success; he had no idea what it was that Ollivander was looking for. As the pile seemed to grow larger, Harry became more worried, while Ollivander seemed quite excited.

"Tricky customer, eh?" he said with an overenthusiastic grin. "Not to worry, Mr Potter. Not to worry. We'll find the perfect match here somewhere—I wonder, now—yes, why not—unusual combination—holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

He eagerly thrust the wand into Harry's hand, waiting expectantly. At once, Harry felt a warming sensation running throughout his entire arm. He gave the wand a single flick and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls. He looked up at his mother and she smiled at him.

Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well... how curious... how very curious..."

"I'm sorry, but what's curious?"

"Ah, I remember every wand I've ever sold. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather - just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother why, its brother gave you that scar."

Harry swallowed hard and he felt his mother's grip tighten on his shoulder.

"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember... I think we must expect great things from you, Mr Potter... After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things—terrible, yes, but great."

Harry shivered and he felt his mom stiffen besides him. He wasn't sure whether or not he liked Ollivander. His mum hastily paid for the wand and rushed him out the door. Once outside, she sighed in relief and, remembering her promise, led him to Fortescue's little ice cream shop. After ordering, they took a seat in one of the outside tables. Harry remained quite silent, lost in thought.

"What's wrong, love?" his mother asked concernedly after a while.

"Nothing. It's just—who are the Malfoys?"

His mother looked rather alarmed at the mention of that surname. "Why'd you ask?"

Harry proceeded to tell his mother about his encounter with the pale boy.

"And then he went on saying something about purebloods and how muggleborns shouldn't be allowed into Hogwarts. What is a pureblood, anyway?"

His mother sighed. "Well, love, pure-blood is a term coined by many old wizarding families to describe their _'blood purity'_, which is to say, they claim not to have anybody from muggle descent in their families. They feel that this gives them a sort of superiority to muggles and other wizards. The Malfoys are just one of the many families that believe this to be true. But not all pure-blooded families think alike. The Weasleys are considered to be pure-bloods, yet they reject the values upheld by many pure-bloods."

"But why do they look down on muggle-borns?"

"Well, it's hard to explain, love. But basically, it's because they see our blood as being 'impure'. Dirty. They feel that muggle-borns aren't worthy of magic."

"Which is absolute rubbish. You're mum's a muggle-born and she's one of the best witches I've ever met," said a voice behind them.

"Sirius!" Harry ran to greet his godfather. "What're you doing here?"

"Well, it's my favourite godson's birthday later this week and I figured I should buy him something."

"But I'm your only godson," Harry said, grinning.

They stayed there, chatting with Sirius for a few minutes before his mum led him away again. They Disapparated once again and landed on the steps of their little home. Exhausted, Harry fell onto the little chaise lounge in front of the fire and fell asleep instantly. Lily smiled at the sight of her sleeping son and thought better about rousing him for supper. With some difficulty, she carried him upstairs to his room and laid him on his bed. She stayed there for a while, leaning against the doorframe, looking at her son.

A few years ago, he had seemed so fragile and needing of her. But now, she had to admit that her little boy was finally growing up. Soon, he would be leaving to Hogwarts and starting a new life on his own, separate from hers. It's not that she hated the idea. No. She loved the idea of Harry having the opportunity to grow up and experience everything life had to offer. It was the idea of him having to face the cruel realities of life that tormented her. She would do anything to shield him from the misfortunes that she knew would soon be coming their way. But she knew it was something that had to happen. But Harry didn't have to do it alone. She would make sure of it.


	4. Harry's Birthday

**A/N: **Just thought I'd give it a go and try to catch a glimpse of how Harry's birthday/life would have been, had his mum lived. It's different from how he spent it with the Dursleys. Well hope you guys like it! It's rather short, I know, but I promise the next one will be longer. I just have a question for you guys. So, since Harry's off to Hogwarts soon, I was thinking that maybe Lily needed something to do while Harry's away. But I'm stuck. Should she become an Auror-she is pretty old at least by Muggle standards, but hey she's a pretty good witch; own a shop in Diagon Alley-I could definitely work this into the story just nice; or a Professor at Hogwarts-she'd be with Harry. But I don't know. Let me know what you guys think and if you have other suggestions, I'd be more than happy to hear them. Okay, I'll shut up now and let you continue your reading. Enjoy!

Chapter 4: Harry's Birthday

"Harry. Harry, wake up, love," a soft voice whispered, dragging Harry away from his slumber. He opened his eyes sleepily and saw the grinning face of his mum peering lovingly down at him. "Happy birthday, love!" she said, hugging him tightly.

Harry grinned widely. Today was his birthday. He was finally eleven.

"Thanks mum," he said, snuggling close to her.

She stroked his hair, kissing him on his forehead. "I love you, Harry," she said softly and Harry could sense she was holding back tears. His mum usually got rather sentimental during his birthday. "You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, love."

"The best?" Harry asked pulling away to look into his mum's face.

"The very bestest," said Lily, smiling. "And don't you ever forget that. Now, how about you hurry up and dress, love? Sirius and Remus'll be here any minute," his mum said, kissing him one last time before exiting his room.

Harry stood up and made his way towards the little bathroom in his room and tried his best to make his hair lay flat. But as always, it went back to its regular position, sticking out at odd ends. He dressed rather hastily and the smell of bacon cooking reached his nose as he reached for a pair of clean socks, before heading for the door.

* * *

Sirius was seated at the breakfast table showing Remus what appeared to be a Muggle magazine—the people in the pictures stayed rather still, instead of moving, like in the wizarding magazines.

"Isn't she a beaut? I remember my old motorcycle," said Sirius fondly, staring off into space.

"I had a dream about a flying motorcycle once," Harry said from the doorframe.

"Flying motorcycles," his mum murmured, smiling absentmindedly. Quite suddenly, she turned around glaring at Sirius. "FLYING MOTORCYCLE? Are you mad? You took _my_ son on a ride on that ghastly thing? What were you thinking?" she shrieked.

"Now, Lily. Calm down. I had nothing to do with it. If there's anyone you should be mad at, it's James. It was his idea," Sirius said innocently.

Lily glared at him, muttering something about 'incorrigible fools' as she exited the little kitchen.

"Actually, that _was_ me," Sirius whispered to Harry, grinning widely. He stood up, opening his arms. "Happy birthday, Harry! How does it feel to be a man?"

"Absolutely brilliant," Harry said, running to hug him before turning to Remus.

"Happy birthday, Harry," said Remus, smiling tiredly. Harry grinned and gave Remus a hug before taking a seat next to them.

Sirius extracted a rather small package from his robes and placed it on the table. He whipped his wand out and tapped it once, enlarging it to its normal size; it was quite long and a bit thin. Harry looked at it, wondering what it might be.

"Now, I know that you're birthday party isn't until much later, but I wanted to give you this now, since your mum isn't here and she can't throw a fit. It's from me and Remus. Go on, Harry. Open it," he said, pushing the gift towards Harry.

Harry tore the wrapping hastily and grinned widely when he peeked inside.

"Wow! Thanks!" he said, throwing his arms around Sirius, then Remus, before turning back to his gift.

Sirius had a pleased smile on his face, looking contentedly at his godson. Remus, on the other hand, looked rather pale.

"You gave him a broomstick? Are you mental?"

"It's not just any broomstick, Moony. It's a Nimbus 2000."

"You blundering idiot," said Lily from behind him, hitting Sirius over the head with her wooden spoon. "Harry's not allowed a broomstick yet!"

"That doesn't mean he can't have one. And James would approve of it," he added, flashing her his winning smile.

"That's because he was as reckless as you," she said, rolling her eyes. After almost twenty years of knowing Sirius, Lily was unaffected by his 'charms' by now.

"Come on, Lily. You can't blame me for trying to pamper my godson. Look how happy he is."

Sirius' words had the desired effect. Lily's scowl gradually lessened at the mention of her son's happiness. If it made Harry happy, who was she to deny him that?

"You're still an idiot," she said, trying to hide the smile know forming on her lips. Knowing he had won, Sirius grinned happily.

* * *

The morning carried on in the usual chatter. Lily went about running errands while Harry played a game of Exploding Snap with Sirius and Remus until the afternoon, when guests starting arriving. The Weasley's were the first to arrive, given that Molly was more than keen to help Lily prepare the food. Their little home was filled with the sounds of laughter and happiness as Harry and the Weasley children, except for Percy, went about, running in and out of rooms.

After they had almost broken a lamp, Molly had finally put her foot down and sent them off to play outside. Harry took this opportunity to show them his new broom.

"Blimey, Harry! Is that a Nimbus 2000?" asked George, admiring the broomstick.

"Yeah, Sirius and Remus got it for me."

"I would give anything for a broom like that," said Ron.

Harry laughed. "Well, we can share it. I reckon we should take turns flying it."

"Yeah," Ginny said, grinning happily.

They each took a turn flying Harry's new broom around the woods surrounding his house, careful to avoid being seen by the Muggles nearby. Sirius watched proudly from the door as his godson mounted the broom.

"He's a natural, James. He's so much like you," he whispered, a sad smile on his face.

* * *

"Wotcher, Harry," a young woman no older than eighteen with bubbly pink hair said, grinning widely before handing him a present. "Happy birthday."

"Tonks!" said Harry, hugging her.

Tonks was Sirius' cousin and one of Harry's favourite people. It was thanks to Sirius that Tonks had become a constant presence in Harry's life. Over the years, Harry had grown to think of Tonks as an older sister and she was more than happy to think of him as a younger brother, seeing as neither of them had any siblings.

"I just only managed to escape Auror training. Mad-Eye wasn't too pleased. But I couldn't miss out on my little brother's birthday," she said with a wink.

"Nymphadora! How good to see you," a voice called, causing Tonk's hair to grow a bright red.

"Don't call me that, Sirius!" she snarled, annoyed.

Harry laughed as he watched his godfather and Tonks bicker as usual. As more and more people started arriving, Harry couldn't help but smile. These people were his family after all.

There was the Weasley's, who were extremely kind but very poor and whom he was really fond of; Sirius, his godfather and the closest thing he ever had to a real father; Remus, whom he had grown to think as an uncle; Minerva McGonagall, a very stern looking witch whom Harry had grown to think of as Grandmother; Emmeline Vance, a friend of his mum's, whom he was very fond of; Albus Dumbledore, whom he had always thought of as a Grandfather; Hagrid, one of his very best friends; and Tonks, his almost-sister.

He watched as they all gathered around him as his mum brought out his birthday cake, eleven candles lighted on top of it, their happy faces smiling down at him, full of love and affection. Harry couldn't help but think how lucky he was to have these people in his life. The only person missing was his dad, but he knew that somewhere out there, he was looking down upon him.

And for that one night, Harry Potter was a normal boy, celebrating his eleventh birthday, surrounded by his loved ones. To them, he wasn't The-Boy-Who-Lived. He was simply Harry.


	5. Hogwarts Express

**A/N: ** Sorry for not updating sooner, but as some of you know, I'm working on another story. Add college to the picture and you can see why it's hard for me to update...Thanks for reading and thank you for the reviews you guys! They really do mean a lot and an extra big thank you to HoosierCullen, ClaireBear1982, and Andrigno for helping me decide Lily's job. I hope you guys like what I decided for her. Anyway, enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **Anything that sounds familiar to you belongs to J.K Rowling, not me.

Chapter 5: Hogwarts Express

Harry's last month at home passed rather rapidly and before he knew it, he was sitting down for supper on the day before his departure. Up until now he had been rather happy about the whole affair, but as he watched his mum hum gently as she served his meal, he couldn't help but feel a bit worried. He hadn't thought about what would happen to his mum once he was gone. Ever since Harry could remember, they had never been away from each other. How was she going to manage alone?

His mum noticed something was wrong right away and she smiled down at him, placing a hand on his shoulder, her face full of motherly concern.

"Harry, love, what's wrong?"

"It's just—mum? What are you going to do when I'm gone?"

To his surprise, his mum laughed gently. "Is that was had you so worried, love? You needn't fret. I'll be fine."

"But, what are you going to do, mum?" he pressed on, not satisfied with her answer.

"Well, it's a surprise, love," she said with a small wink before placing a kiss on his forehead. "Now eat, love, before it gets cold."

* * *

"Have you got your wand?"

"Yes, mum."

"Books?"

"Mhm."

"Robes?"

"Yes."

"Hedwig?"

"Yep."

"Train tick—"

"Lily, relax. Harry's got everything packed. Right, dear?"

"Yes, mum. I swear."

"Fine. I guess we can go."

They walked outside towards the Ministry cars that were waiting for them, courtesy of the Minister himself. Sirius and Mr Weasley loaded Harry's trunk into one of the cars and they all climbed in for the long drive to London, more specifically, Kings Cross Station. They arrived with about thirty minutes to spare, much to Harry's relief. He was just wondering where exactly Platform Nine and Three-Quarters was when they came to a stop in front of a very solid-looking barrier.

"Alright, how about Ron and Harry go first? Just walk straight at that barrier right there. You can run if you're feeling a bit nervous, dear."

"Er—what?"

Lily chuckled gently. "It's alright, love. You'll be fine."

Harry looked over to Ron, who gave him a small shrug. Gathering all his strength, he took a deep breath before heading for the barrier. The closer he got to it, the more nervous he felt. He was going to crash into it, he just knew it—Merlin, it was getting awfully close—just a few more steps…Harry closed his eyes, waiting for the crash, but it never came.

Instead, he kept walking and heard the gleeful chatter of people all around him. He opened his eyes, staring around him in awe. Smoke was coming from a scarlet steam engine, with a sign over it that read: Hogwarts Express, eleven o'clock.

"Wotcher, Harry," a familiar voice said behind him.

"Tonks!"

Only she looked nothing like the Tonks Harry knew. She looked rather tall, taller than she really was, had long, curly, black hair and appeared to be about thirty. Harry wasn't surprised in the least. After all, Tonks _was_ a Metamorphmagus, meaning she could change her appearance at will.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were training today."

"Well, I wasn't about to miss your big day. Mind you, I don't have a lot of time before Mad-Eye discovers I'm gone," she said with a grin.

They were soon joined by his mum, Sirius, Remus, and the rest of the Weasleys. Ginny came last of all, followed by her mum, crying.

"What's wrong, Gin?"

"I want to go to Hogwarts, too," she sniffed.

"I've already told you, you're not old enough yet."

"Don't worry, Ginny," Harry said, throwing an arm around the youngest Weasley. "You'll be able to go next year."

"Yeah, Ginny-ckins. Besides, we'll make sure to owl every day," George piped in.

"We'll even send you a toilet seat."

This seemed to cheer Ginny up and she giggled a bit. Mrs Weasley, on the other hand, glared at Fred.

"Don't you dare, Fred!"

"Relax, mum. I was joking."

They chatted for a while, before Tonks had to leave. The children clambered onto the train and dumped their belonging into an empty compartment before climbing back out to say their goodbyes. Harry walked over to his mum and hugged her tightly, fighting back his tears.

"I'm going to miss you, mum."

"Me too, love. Promise me you'll be a good boy and stay out of trouble," she said, planting a kiss on his forehead.

"Don't listen to your mum, Harry. I expect at least a weekly letter explaining all the awesome pranks you've pulled," Sirius said, grinning as he gave his godson a hug.

"Sirius!" said Lily, smacking him in the arm. "What kind of advice is that?"

"The best kind. He's a Marauder, Lily! Just look at him!"

"Idiot," Lily whispered, shaking her head.

Harry grinned and turned to hug Remus, before saying his goodbyes to the Weasleys.

"Bye," they called in unison, waving as they walked towards the train.

"Harry, wait," Sirius called, walking towards him. "There's something I've been meaning to give you."

He waited until the last Weasley child had boarded the train before extracting a battered-looking cloak that seemed to be made of watery fabric from his robes. Harry stared at it, a confused look on his face.

"What is that?"

"It's an Invisibility Cloak. This old thing saved us from a lot of trouble back in our days. It belonged to your Dad and I know he'd want you to have it, Harry," he said, handing it over to him. "Now, take care Harry. Go make us proud," he said, giving him one last hug.

"Sirius?"

"Yes?"

"I—well I'm a bit worried, see."

"About what?"

"Well, what if I'm in Slytherin?"

"Ah, I understand perfectly well. When I was your age, I had that same fear. You see, my whole family had been in Slytherin and I was terrified of the thought of having to spend the next seven years with people exactly like them. But I'll tell you a secret," he said, motioning for Harry to lean closer. "The Sorting Hat takes your choice into consideration."

"It does?"

"It did for me. But don't worry, Harry. I'm sure you'll be in Gryffindor. You're just like your father," he said, smiling down at him.

Harry grinned as he climbed onto the already moving train and ran to a window. He waved to his family, watching them grow smaller and smaller.

* * *

"Ah, Severus, just the person I was looking for. Sit," Albus Dumbledore said, motioning to the seat in front of him.

"What is it that you wished to speak to me about, Headmaster?" spoke the thin man with sallow skin and hooked-nose.

"Well, Severus, as you have been complaining for the past ten years about those, er, dunderheads, is that what you call them? Well, I've decided to hire a new Potions teacher."

"Are you firing me, Albus?" Snape asked, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"No, not at all. Quite the contrary. You see, you would still be teaching, but the more Advanced classes. This new Professor would take on the duty of teaching the Basics."

"And who might this incompetent fool be?"

"That would be me, Severus," a tired voice answered.

At the sound of her voice, Severus spun around quickly, not believing his eyes. But yet, there she was, looking as beautiful as ever. She looked exactly as he remembered her. Lily avoided his gaze and looked instead at Professor Dumbledore.

"Ah, Lily! We've been waiting for you. Sit, sit. Now Severus, I take it you already know Lily Potter, so I'll not waste time in introductions. She will be our new Potions mistress."

"So I see. Lily _Potter,_" he said, the surname leaving a bile taste in his mouth. "I am curious to know, how does one make the time to fulfil an appropriate Potions apprenticeship when there is a child to care for?"

"I have my ways, Severus," she replied, not bothering to look at him. "Albus, I don't wish to be rude, but I would really like to wash up before the students get here. So, if there isn't anything you need to discuss with me, I'll be on my way."

"No of course not, Lily. I assume you already know where your office is?"

"Yes, Headmaster."

She left then and Severus stared after her longingly. But he knew he was stupid. Lily had not yet forgiven him for his foolish mistake. She had not even looked at him once.

* * *

"I'm hungry."

"Ron, you're always hungry."

"Says you. Where's the trolley? Fred said there'd be a food trolley."

"Dunno."

They sat in silence, the only sound being Ron's grumbling stomach. The compartment door flew open and Ron stood up happily. Much to his disappointment, a buck-toothed, bushy-haired girl stood in front of them and next to her stood a round-faced boy who looked as he'd been crying.

"Hey, Harry," the boy said.

"Hey, Neville," Harry said, recognising him as being Neville Longbottom, son of his mum's best friend. "What's wrong?"

"He's lost his toad," the girl replied for him in a rather bossy voice. "Have any of you seen it? Are you Harry _Potter_?"

"No, Neville, sorry. And yes, I am."

"Oh, I've read all about you!"

"Er—you have?"

"Well of course! I bought some extra books for background reading and you happen to be in all of them. I'm a muggleborn you see, and I wanted to know everything there is to know about the wizarding world, so I'd be prepared. I'm Hermione, by the way. Hermione Granger. And you must be—?" she asked, turning to Ron.

"Ron Weasley," he muttered.

"Delighted. Well anyway, we must be on our way. Come on, Neville."

The boys waved goodbye to Neville as Hermione led him away.

"I hope _she's_ not in our House. Can you imagine spending the next seven years with her?"

"I thought she was…nice?"

Ron snorted, looking grumpy. At that moment, they heard the trolley lady making her way towards their compartment.

"Anything from the trolley, dearies?"

"Finally!" Ron exclaimed happily.

Harry bought everything from Cauldron Cakes to Chocolate Frogs to Pumpkin Pasties. With his stomach full, Ron seemed more like himself. They had a box of Bertie Bott's between them, talking about nothing in particular.

Harry nibbled on the end of a green coloured one. "Blah! Brussels sprout. How's Charlie been? Haven't seen him since last summer."

"Good I suppose. He's still working with dragons down in Romania. Mum's been trying to convince him to come back, but you know him, he won't listen."

He reached into the box and extracted a red coloured bean, which turned out to be strawberry. The compartment door flew open once more and three boys walked in. Harry instantly recognised the platinum blonde boy as the one he had met in Diagon Alley.

"So it is true. Harry Potter. I believe we met. My name is Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. These are Crabbe and Goyle," he said, signalling lazily to the two other boys. Both of them were rather thick and mean-looking.

Ron snorted and Malfoy turned to look at him, a malicious glint in his grey eyes.

"Think my name is funny, do you? No need to ask who _you_ are. Red hair, freckles and battered clothes. You must be a _Weasley_." He turned his attention back to Harry. "As you know, some wizarding families are better than others. You don't have to associate with such riffraff, Potter. I can help you there," he said, offering his hand, but Harry didn't take it.

"I think I can figure that out myself, Malfoy," he said coldly. "Now leave."

"You'd better be careful, Potter. Unless you want to go the same way as your blood traitor father," he said, exiting the compartment.

Harry swore loudly. "I hate that git."

"I've heard all about his family," Ron said darkly. "Dad says that they were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared, claiming they'd been bewitched. But Dad doesn't believe it. Says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side."

"Yeah, mum told me all about them and their pureblood fanaticism. I think their mental."

"That would explain a lot actually."

"Reckon we should change into our robes? We're probably almost there."

A voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

"Told you."

The boys stripped off their jackets and put their robes on hastily. Harry felt his stomach give a nervous lurch as the train gradually slowed down before coming to a complete stop. This was it. The moment he had been waiting for since he could remember. He gave a deep breath before stepping outside, ready to face his destiny.

**A/N:** Before anyone asks, I will not have Lily fall in love with Snape. Sorry but it's just not happening in this story. She loved James and only him. And wouldn't her marrying Snape cause Harry to hate her? I know I would. Anyway, thanks for reading! I'll try to update sooner.


	6. Sorting Ceremony

**A/N:** You'll find a lot of things that sound familiar in this chapter, but that's only because I simply couldn't come up with a satisfying description of Hogwarts. So I used some of Rowling's instead-not word for word, of course. After all, it _is_ her world and no matter how hard I try, I would never be able to describe it as perfectly as she did.

**Disclaimer:** Nope, I still don't own Harry Potter. That still belongs to J.K Rowling.

* * *

Chapter 6: Sorting Ceremony

Lily sighed as she walked around her quarters, admiring her work. She had done her best to make her new quarters as cosy as possible, given that she would be spending most of the school year there. She had requested Dumbledore place her as far as possible from the dungeons and he had obliged, giving her Professor Merrythought's old room, which was fairly spacious and comfortable. She had decorated the walls with an emerald green tapestry—just like their room in Godric's Hollow had been. A large bookshelf that now held her entire collection of books took up most of the left wall and she had managed to charm the wall opposite to it so that it was an exact replica of the Black Lake, given that it brought many good memories about her and James.

She walked out to her office and took a seat in a chair by the kindling fire, staring into it, feeling completely exhausted. Walking through the corridors had been complete torture. The minute she had set foot in the castle, Lily had been bombarded with thousands of haunting memories, some of them good, others not so much. Professor McGonagall had found her crying her heart out in the Third Corridor by the Charms classroom, in the exact same spot where James had first kissed her. She couldn't bear it. Every nook and cranny of the castle brought a new memory about her and James and with it a blow to her healing heart. It might have been ten years since James had died, but not a day went by that she didn't miss him.

She let out another sigh as there was a tentative knock on her door and she stood to open it. She wiped the stray tears that had escaped and plastered on a fake smile, before opening it, expecting to see Professor McGonagall telling her it was time for the feast. What she didn't expect was too see a certain shaggy haired man standing there, smiling at her. One look at Sirius and Lily lost it. Before she could stop them, the tears started spilling and she could feel Sirius lead her into an awkward hug.

"Sh, sweetheart. It's all right. It'll be fine," he whispered to her, stroking her hair.

"I miss him, Sirius. I've tried to move on. Merlin knows I've tried. But I just can't. And coming here didn't help. Everything about this castle reminds me of him," she said between sobs.

"I know, sweetheart. And I miss him too," he said, sighing heavily. "But James wouldn't want to see you like this. You know how much he hated to see you cry."

"I know, but I just can't help it sometimes," she said, pulling away to wipe her tears. "So what brings you here, Padfoot?"

"I was in Hogsmeade and thought I'd check up on you. And Minerva thought it'd do you good if I popped in for a quick visit; she sounded rather concerned when told me about—er—_earlier_."

"Oh, Merlin. I feel awful for worrying her."

"She understands how hard this is for you, Lils. We all do. You don't have to do this, you know. I'm sure Albus would understand."

"No, Sirius. I do. I can't explain it, but I feel this is where I'm supposed to be. And just because I'm not at Hogwarts doesn't mean I'll stop missing James. That'll never go away."

He nodded, as if he understood exactly what she was going through. And perhaps he did. After all, hadn't James been like a brother to him?

"Well, I should get going. The brats will be here anytime soon," he said, giving her a smirk and she rolled her eyes. "Think you'll be able to manage?"

"I'll be okay."

"Bye Lils. Give Harry my love when you see him."

"Will do. And thank you, Sirius."

"Anytime."

* * *

As the train came to a slow stop, people started rushing out of the compartments and pushing their way through, out onto the tiny, dark platform. Harry stepped out of the train, with Ron following closely behind him. He squinted his eyes, trying to make his way without bumping into anyone, which was quite hard given that other students surrounded him on either side.

A bobbing lamp came into view and Harry heard a familiar, booming voice: "Firs' years! Firs' year's follow me! All right there, Harry? Ron?"

Both children smiled and nodded before making their way after Hagrid.

"C'mon firs' years! Follow me! Mind yer step."

Stumbling, the first years made their way after Hagrid, down what seemed to be a narrow path. They were all quite silent, given their excitement and nervousness. The silence of the night was only broken by Neville, who kept sniffing loudly.

"Ye' all get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called to them over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

There was loud gasps and a chorus of "Oooh's" as the narrow path opened onto the edge of a great lake, given them a clear view. Lying peacefully against the September night, stood a vast castle with many turrets and towers, its windows sparkling and blending into the starry sky.

"All right, no more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called to them, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting calmly in the water by the shore. Neville and Hermione followed Harry and Ron into their boat. Ron groaned and Harry elbowed him, smiling at them.

"Everyone seated?" shouted Hagrid, who was sitting in a boat by himself. "Right then—FORWARD!"

And with that the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which seemed to be as smooth as glass. Everyone was rather silent, staring up at the great castle overhead, trying to take it all in. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Everyone heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbour, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

A girl screamed and everyone turned to look at her. Perched on top of her head was a rather big, warty toad.

"Trevor!" cried Neville happily, holding out his hands. Hagrid chuckled and led them up a passageway in the rock, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle. They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door. Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

A tall, familiar, black-haired witch threw open the great oak doors and Harry grinned as she flashed her eyes his directions, giving him the most discreet of smiles. Despite her stern appearance, Harry knew she was rather warm-hearted and kind. He had to practically stop himself from running to great his Nana Minerva—as he so fondly referred to her.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid said.

"Thanks, Hagrid. I'll take them from here," she said, pulling the door wide open, allowing them a view of inside.

The entrance hall was so big you would have been able to fit Harry's house in it just perfectly. The stonewalls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right—and Harry suspected that the rest of the school must already be there—but Professor McGonagall showed them into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather close, closer than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking," she looked at Harry when she said this, an amused glint in her eye, "will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear and Harry nervously tried to flatten his hair.

"I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly," she said, giving them one last stern look before exiting the chamber.

"How exactly do you think they sort us into Houses?" someone next to Harry asked.

He was about to answer when a voice behind him made him jump a foot in the air and he heard several screams coming from the people around him.

"Ah, new students! Splendid," the voice said and Harry turned around to see whom it belonged to.

Standing—or rather _floating_—in front of him was a fat little monk and next to him where several other ghosts peering curiously at them. Harry smiled, recognising the ghost in front of him, thanks to Tonks.

"You must be the Friar."

"That I am m'boy!" he said cheerfully.

"I see you're about to be Sorted, right?" asked a ghost wearing ruffs and tights.

A few people nodded—many of them still shocked at the sight of the ghosts surrounding them.

"Well, I hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Fat Friar, smiling at them. "Used to be my old House, you know," he said, before floating away, along with the other ghosts, as Professor McGonagall reappeared.

"Alright, now all of you form a straight line and follow me."

Harry got into line in between a sandy haired boy and Ron. They walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, into a pair of double doors leading to the Great Hall.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight that greeted him; it was better than he had imagined. Thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in mid-air over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting, lighting the Great Hall. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. He spotted Dumbledore among them and he gave him a small smile before inspecting the rest of the Professors. Harry came to a complete stop as he became aware of a certain redheaded Professor who was smiling at him, her green eyes never leaving his. He blinked twice before rubbing his eyes, convinced that it was just a trick of the light. But there she was, smiling down at him. Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, bringing Harry out of his trance.

He grinned widely and it took all his will power from running up the couple of steps to the long table and hugging his mum tightly. She gave him a small wink and smiled at him again, causing Harry's grin to grow even wider.

"Is that your _mum_?" Ron whispered in his ear and Harry managed a small nod, before following Professor McGonagall as she led them to the top of the hall, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Harry looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars.

Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool, she put a pointed wizard's hat—Harry noted that it was patched, frayed, and extremely dirty. He stared at it, wondering exactly how this hat was going to do the sorting—Sirius hadn't mentioned that part. Perhaps you had to pull a rabbit out of it, like in the muggle magic shows he had seen on the telly his mum kept in the sitting room? But if that was so, then how exactly was it going to take his wishes into consideration? For a few seconds there was complete silence as everyone turned to look at the Hat. Then, quite suddenly, the Hat twitched and a rip near its brim opened, giving it the shape of a mouth and it began to sing:

_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_if you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

The Hall erupted into applause as the Hat finished its song. It gave a small bow in the direction of each of the houses before standing quite still. Harry smiled, feeling relieved. Of course, he had to try on the hat—what else would it be? Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and stepped forward, unrolling a long roll of parchment.

"Now, when I call your name, please step forward. You will then sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbot, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause—

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Harry could see the twins catcalling.

"Bullstorde, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was Harry's imagination, after all he'd been told about Slytherin from his godfather, but he thought they looked like an unpleasant lot.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Sometimes, Harry noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. For example, "Finnigan, Seamus," the sandy-haired boy next to Harry in the line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat, causing Ron to let out a groan.

When Neville was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag."

Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!" Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself.

There weren't many people left now. "Moon" "Nott" "Parkinson" then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil"—the closer it got to his turn, the more nervous Harry felt and then, a terrible thought struck him: what if the Hat didn't take his opinion into consideration and put him in Slytherin? Would his mum be disappointed?

"Potter, Harry!"

So preocuppied was he that he didn't hear his name being called. Only after Ron gave him a small push did he become aware of everyone's stares. As he stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"Potter, did she say?"

"_The_ Harry Potter?"

He looked over to his mum, who gave him a reassuring smile as he sat on the stool. The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited.

"Ah, another Potter. Now, where to put you?" said a small voice in his ear. "Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, my goodness, yes—and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting…So where shall I put you?"

Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought, _Not Slytherin, not Slytherin. _

"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the small voice. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that."

_Please not Slytherin. Anything but Slytherin_.

"Well, if you're sure—better be GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. He took off the hat and he looked up at the Staff table, where his mum was clapping for him, smiling widely. He returned her smile and walked over to the Gryffindor table. So relieved was he not be in Slytherin, that he hardly noticed he was getting the loudest cheer yet. "Well done, Harry," Percy said as he stood and shook his hand vigorously, like the Prefect he was, while the Weasley twins yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!" causing Harry to let out a laugh. He sat down opposite the ghost in the ruff he'd seen earlier. The ghost—Harry recognised him as being Nearly-Headless Nick—patted his arm, giving Harry the sudden, horrible feeling he'd just plunged it into a bucket of ice-cold water.

And now there were only three people left to be sorted. "Thomas, Dean," a black boy even taller than Ron, joined Harry at the Gryffindor table. "Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. Harry could tell he was looking rather pale and he crossed his fingers under the table. A second later the hat had shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!" Harry clapped loudly with the rest as Ron collapsed into the seat next to him.

"How come you didn't tell me your mum was coming to Hogwarts?"

"I had no idea," Harry said, stealing a glance at his mum, who gave him another small wink.

"Well done, Ron, excellent," said Percy Weasley pompously across Harry as "Zabini, Blaise," was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away. Harry looked down at his empty gold plate. He had only just realized how hungry he was. He looked back up and noticed that Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not.

"Always thought he was a bit mad," Fred said, nodding at Professor Dumbledore.

"Mad? Try brilliant! The man's a genius! Best wizard in the world! Although, he is a bit mad, I suppose," Percy said thoughtfully.

Harry's laughed and he turned his attention back to the table and his mouth fell open. The dishes in front of him were now piled with food: beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs. Harry piled his plate with a bit of everything except the peppermints and began to eat. And just like Sirius had promised, it was all delicious.

"You're Nearly-Headless Nick, aren't you?" Harry asked the ghost sitting in front of him.

"I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy—" the ghost began stiffly, but sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan interrupted.

"Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?"

"Like this," he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces, Nearly-Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, "So—new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable—he's the Slytherin ghost."

Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was right next to Malfoy who, Harry was pleased to see, didn't look too pleased with the seating arrangements.

"How did he get covered in blood?" asked Seamus with great interest.

"I've never asked," said Nearly Headless Nick delicately.

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavour you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding—anything you could ever dream of. As Harry helped himself to a treacle tart, the talk turned to their families.

"I'm half-and-half," said Seamus. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mum didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him."

The others laughed.

"What about you, Neville?" said Ron.

"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," said Neville, "but the family thought I was all- Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me—he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned—but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced—all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here—they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad."

Harry, who was starting to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. To Dumbledore's left, was his mum, who was talking animatedly with a squat little Professor, who looked like he was about to topple over, given the way he kept bouncing excitedly in his seat. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin—Harry didn't know why, but the man seemed strangely familiar. Harry had a feeling he had seen him somewhere.

He had no time to ponder on it however, because just as the hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell's turban and straight into Harry's eyes, a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on his forehead, causing him to wince as he clasped a hand to his forehead. He noticed his mum looking at him concernedly but he managed to give her a small smile, before turning away.

The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Harry had gotten from the teacher's look—a feeling that he didn't like Harry at all.

"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked Percy.

"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to—everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

Harry watched Snape for a while, but Snape didn't look at him again.

At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The Hall fell silent.

"Ahem—just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins, who grinned widely at the Headmaster.

"I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death. And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Harry noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed and his mum rolled her eyes good-naturedly, shaking her head.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

"Everyone pick their favourite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!" And the school bellowed:

_"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_

_Teach us something please,_

_Whether we be old and bald_

_Or young with scabby knees,_

_Our heads could do with filling_

_With some interesting stuff,_

_For now they're bare and full of air,_

_Dead flies and bits of fluff,_

_So teach us things worth knowing,_

_Bring back what we've forgot,_

_just do your best, we'll do the rest,_

_And learn until our brains all rot._

Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

"Alright, first-years follow me!" Percy shouted as he rose from the table. The first-years followed suit, but Harry stayed behind. Percy was about to protest when his mum walked up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"It's alright, Percy. I'll walk him up."

Percy nodded at them before making his way out of the Hall, with the first-year Gryffindors trailing behind him. Ron threw them a curious look, before following Percy out the door.

"Harry! You made it into Gryffindor! I'm so proud of you, love," she said stooping down to hug him. "Although I would have been proud of you regardless of what House you were sorted into."

"Mum!" he said, throwing his arms over her. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise, love," she said, laughing gently. "So, how does it feel to finally be in Hogwarts?"

"Absolutely brilliant! And even better now that you're here," Harry said, grinning at his mum. "What'll you be teaching?"

"Potions," she said with a small shrug.

"But I thought Percy said Professor Snape taught that."

"Well yes, but he'll take care of the Advanced classes. I'll be teaching the Basics. Now, come one, love. We better get going. Wouldn't want Nana Minerva—I mean Professor McGonagall—to deduct House points so early into the term, now would we?" she said, offering him her hand, which he took instantly.

His mum led him out of the Hall and Harry noticed that a few of the older students were looking at them curiously, craning their necks to get a better view of him, but he ignored them. She led him up the stairs and Harry felt as if his feet were made of lead—quite possibly because of all the food he had consumed. Harry was about to ask his mum how much farther they had to go, when they came to a sudden stop. A bundle of walking sticks was floating in mid-air ahead of them and they started throwing themselves them once they got too close.

"Oh, Peeves. Causing havoc as usual aren't you?"

A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.

"I think I should go to the Bloody Baron, don't you?"

There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

"Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "If it isn't ickle Lilykins and an ickle Firsty! What fun!" He swooped at them and Lily rolled her eyes.

"I haven't got the time to humour you, Peeves. Either you go away or I call the Bloody Baron."

Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks to the ground. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armour as he passed.

"That was Peeves—a Poltergeist. You'll want to avoid him, love. He can be a total pain when he wants to."

They set off again, only to stop at the very end of the corridor, where a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress was hanging.

"Password?" she said.

"Caput Draconis," said Lily, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. "You'll want to remember that, love."

They peered inside and Harry caught a glimpse off the Gryffindor common room. It was a round room, full of squashy armchairs.

"Ah, the Gryffindor common room. It brings back such good memories. Well, this is where I leave you, love. You're dormitory should be through the door on the right. It should have a plaque that reads 'First Years', alright? I'll be on the Sixth Floor, if you need me. Goodnight, Harry. See you tomorrow."

"Night, mum," he said sleepily as he scrambled in through the opening in the wall. "Love you."

"I love you, too, Harry," she said as the portrait closed again.

Lily sighed as she slowly made her way back to her own sleeping quarters. She changed rather hastily into her nightgown, before settling down in what would be one of many sleepless nights to come. She just hoped she was doing the right thing.


	7. Author's Note

_A/N: Before you guys form an angry mob and flame me down when you realize this is not an update, let me explain. But I guess I owe and explanation first, on why I haven't updated. The thing is, as most of you know, college is a hassle. In between the projects and research papers and writing a Jily story, I just didn't have the time, but I swear, I'll update sooner from now on. I've actually bee working on the next chapter, but I'm stuck now and this is where I need your help._

_I've read all your lovely reviews and I've come to realize a few things: I hardly make mention of Neville or Luna and Cedric for that matter. And, as someone pointed out, these characters should play an important part in Harry's life, since Alice and Lily were best friends and Luna and Cedric grew up with Harry in this fic. And it bugs me, that I overlooked these things so, I guess what I'm saying is that would you guys rather I go back and rewrite this story? Or should I leave it as is? I could go back to rewrite it to satisfy all you lovely reader's expectations of this story, since several of you have pointed this out to me, or just keep going forward and find a way to fit this all in. (And thank you, btw. I love reading all your suggestions and thoughts.)_

_I'll be updating the next chapter either tomorrow or Monday, but I wanted to run this by you guys first. And as for the pairing, which many of you seem curious about, it'll be Harry/Daphne. I've fallen in love with that pairing. Also, how do you guys feel about Sirius/Lily or Remus/Lily?_

_Anyway, thank you all for your reviews and your patience and I'll make sure to have that new chapter/revised chapter up as soon as I can!_

_Cheers!_

_-TheGreyLadyy_


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